


By Any Other Name

by bestworstcase (windrattlestheblinds)



Series: Cass Appreciation Week 2020 [1]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Cassandra Appreciation Week, Early S3, Gen, Loosely Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windrattlestheblinds/pseuds/bestworstcase
Summary: The second time Cassandra asks her question, the girl from the House of Yesterday’s Tomorrow smiles.
Relationships: Cassandra & Zhan Tiri
Series: Cass Appreciation Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746052
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Friendship.

“But who _are_ you?”

The spirit is an insubstantial shimmer of cobalt under the moonlight. Still, Cassandra can see the sly curve of a smile scything across her face. “A friend,” she says.

“No.”

“No?”

Cassandra sets her feet in the fallow soil of the Dark Kingdom. “A friend would tell me her name,” she says. The year is turning around into autumn and the night has a chill that prickles like an answer to the cold moonlight percolating through her veins; the crisp taste of snow laces the air, and she feels braced and alert and _strong._ “I want to know _who—you—are._ ”

“I don’t remember.”

“…What?”

A dreaminess seeps into the spirit’s soft voice; she drifts into the air, a figure of mist and starlight, until she dangles before Cass. “He bound me to the house, I think,” she says. “I remember… vines…”

She touches her mouth, her glittering eyes vacant as she gazes into the darkness, and Cassandra feels her stomach lurch. Rapunzel described what happened to her in the bowels of the shell house during one of the interminable final days of their journey into the Dark Kingdom; shredding the false paradise of Matthews’ ritual and awakening on an altar tangled in vines.

Is this what would’ve become of her if she hadn’t escaped? A shade without her memories, trapped forever in those spiraling halls?

“But-” Her hands clench at her sides. _I’m through with Rapunzel._ “Why?”

“I don’t know,” the spirit murmurs. “I… think…”

She floats closer. The bluish haze of her form moves in slow, serpentine whorls; never breaking shape but ever-shifting, and for an instant Cassandra imagines she can see the shadows of clutching tendrils coiled in the mist. Then she blinks, and it passes; the spirit dips lower, brushing a cold hand against Cassandra’s chest.

White sparks burst out of the opal, pinwheeling phosphorous; Cassandra staggers and the spirit, glowing brighter, laughs like the high chiming of a bell.

“Yes, I- I remember… I think I came from here,” the spirit says. She beams at Cass, tilting forward until she’s lying on her stomach in mid-air, chin propped in her hands.

“From the Dark Kingdom?”

“Yes! I was named… I was-” The vivid joy in her expression falters, and her azure shine dims again; she reaches out wistfully to trace her fingertips over the spurs of rock growing from Cassandra’s shoulders. “I don’t remember,” she says softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Cassandra, please,” the spirit says. “I do hope we can still be friends.”

“Why—” But that isn’t quite what she wants to ask. Cassandra pauses, watching the spirit as she hovers in slow circles around her shoulders. A coy smile curls the corners of her mouth; she seems almost to be _waiting_ for something. “How did you know _my_ name?” Cassandra asks. ”And— and the…”

Memories of her mother; an old scar ripped open and bleeding again, one she doesn’t want to touch. Cassandra swallows, hard.

The spirit says, “You found me in the Listening Room. Or that is what _he_ called it, at least. It had a magic that… gathered forgotten things and played them out again; I always hoped I might find some of mine in there.”

“And you found mine, instead.”

“Yes.”

The spirit stops, and hangs in the frosty air in front of Cassandra. Sympathy glosses her eyes, and it makes Cass uneasy; that someone could lose so much and still pity _her._

(It wasn’t that bad, was it? It was never _that bad._ )

 _Except it was._ It must have been; or else…

“So what… happens now?” she asks.

“I want to help you,” the spirit says. “The moonstone chose you, Cassandra. You have a destiny to find, outside of Rapunzel’s shadow.”

“And you can… teach me how to wield its power?”

“I can. I know how it works. I think I must have had some connection to it myself, before…” Frowning, she sinks until she alights on the dry earth, her skirts rippling. “Before.”

“Probably why Matthews targeted you, huh?”

“Perhaps.” The spirit smiles again, and lifts her hands toward Cass. “So. Friends?” she asks, a hopeful lilt in her voice.

Cassandra hesitates. Now that the smoldering rage she nursed during the last leg of their journey has burnt itself out and the initial thrill of claiming the moonstone for herself has frayed and left her struggling to so much as shift a pebble, she feels… lost. Whatever destiny she’s chasing is more opaque to her now than ever.

If this likewise-lost spirit can help her find her way…

_Maybe we can help each other._

She reaches down to grasp the girl’s hands, returning a grip that is vaporous and yet somehow solid, and agrees, “Friends.”


End file.
